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Saturday, April 23, 2011

Yesterday I gave some thought to what today's post might be, but the unfolding of the day took me in other directions. I opened my eyes at dawn tohemlocks heavy with snow. By mid-day, thick mists had settled into the forest.

I took a short morning walk around the garden, sliding on slush and sinking into mud, and noticed the daffodils bent to earth.

The first load of next year's wood was delivered, and yesterday I moved the pile back to make room for one more load. It was dry and ready to stack in the shed, until today that is. A few sunny days will be enough to dry it out again so I can stack it for winter.

It was surely a morning for a long warm-up by the wood stove. Pasha was in and out, often curling on his little rug by the fire between cold outings in drizzle. On one outing, a lengthy avalanche of wet snow cascaded to the ground, sending him for cover. Soon afterwards he was inside and in need of attention. This is often my view when he has settled on my lap and relaxed into purring. Moments later, though, he jumps down and rings the door chimes to go out....

In the relative dark of the morning, I was struck by the contrast

of in and out.

Slowly, white snow gave way to blurring mists, and the day softened

into muted tones of grays and browns and greens.

Late in the afternoon, I went out to greet the dusk, and was drawn in by the

forest's veiled and shining beauty. A peek just beyond the trees - a little bit further,

and without noticing, I was in the depths of mists and emerald green enchantment.

A few images painted years ago when I first moved here were clearly inspired

by just this kind of day. I enjoyed finding these again, having not looked at them

About Me

I dwell in a peaceful forest clearing amongst tall, sweeping hemlocks. A gathering of oaks encircles my home, and ravens cling to the shadows in the deep shade of the forest beyond. They gift me with squawking and rhythmic beats of wings and call to life the wild spirit within. The mosses, stones and trees, creature beings and spirits of the deep wood whisper, inspire and enchant. I remember and dream and reclaim myself as a sacred being in the web of all life, doing my best to live my life between the culture to which I belong, and the forest which is my true home.
I make things visual in watercolors, oils, ink, scratchboard, and clay/mixed-media. I sing ancient sounding songs (so I'm told) and tell stories from magical realms and the land of dreams.